San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1887-02-19

udll-Bldu liBnl III lltli DiAt u6pluS, 1T
she is conscious of her loneliness. Then
lie begins uneasily TO ask himself how
all this will end, and at last finds him
self wishing with heart and soul that
he had met this girl before certain
words had been spoken 10 Hermione
Thyme.
One evening, when they are by the
riverside, he tells her he is going
away. He is touched and maddened
by the look of bitter grief on the face
that was all smiles while ago, and he
clasps her in his arms and whispers
that he loves her. Her face is pale
with the dread of the coming parting,
out as he speaks the rosy flush of hope
steals over it again, and Wynyard
filings prudence and the prospect of
thirty thousand pounds to the winds.
In a few brief hurried words he tells
Clytie eVerything-that even now,
while he is with her, the preparations
for his marriage are going on in town,
but that he loves her-her only. If she
tells him to do so, he will break his
promise to the woman he has engaged
himself to marry, and thus will give
up even honor for her sake.
He leaves the decision in Clytie's
hands, and waits for her to speak. The
girl has withdrawn herself from his
clasp, and has laid her arms upon the
gnarled trunk of an old pollard, and
hidden her face upon them. In the
utter abandonment of her attitude, in
the droop of her fair head, there is
such suggestion of utter hopelessness
that he is filled with bitter self
reproach.
He speaks to her again and again be-
ha har "a
sees her face he is awed and startled
by the look upon it, She shrinks from
him when he would draw her into his
arms again.
mo, mol" she cries, with despair
ing ring in her voice. $50 back to that
other girl, your promised wife, and
leave me to try to forget that l ever
knew you"
do you wish me to marry a woman
for whom l have not particle of affec-
tionp" he asks bitterly.
"Hush," says Clytie-"she is your
promised wifel"-then, with a pitiful
wailing cry that maddens him-"Know-
ing that, why, ah, why have you sought
meP"
do you want to drive me mad?" he
cries, catching and holding her hands
in both his. Child, do not look at me
with such innocent sorrOwful eyes, as
though it were sin to tell you that l
love you'll"
And" says the girl slowly and gent
ly, what is it but sim"
AClytie," he responds passionately,
II cannot let a promise given before |
knew what true love meant ruin both
our lives. Twill marry none but you'll"
NO." she says res0lutely, Il will not
oh q
chance, promise me you will never re-
fer to this night"
She stands before him with such
look of solemn resoluteness that, bitter
as it is to him to acquiesce in this, he
yet gives her the promise; and i'll sOr-
row they utter their last "good-by" and
part.
Wynyard Gerard goes back to town,
and is lost in the whirl of the London
season; but there comes to him at times
gracious memories of two fair little
hands held out in welcOme-Of sweet
voice speaking words of greeting.
Ralph" says the squire's pretty lit
tie wife to him one day, don't you re-
member, when Wynyard was down
here before his marriage, how very Of
ten he used to go to the mill dare
say Oftener than we knew of even?
Well, L hope he was not carrying on a
Irritation with the miller'S daughter, to
break her heart in the end. If he did,
it was too bad of him!"
at is the miler's daughter,
And she is grown so dear, SO dear,
murmurs Ralph. "My dear, Wynyard
was always an awful tlirt."
We'll, l hope may be mistaken; but
have my fears" says his wife.
Had you not better find out, if it is
possible?" suggests the Squire.
"Yes, l think | will" assents Mrs.
Gerard thOughtfully.
And that very afternoon-a clear,
fresh autumn afternoon-she drives
slowly past the mill in her pOny-car
riage. Very slowly she passes it, tax;
ing in every detail of the cottage and
its surroundings.
A girl comes out of the half-opened
door-a girl with pale sad face across
which shadow lies; and Mrs. Gerard,
seeing her face, knows instinctively
that her fears are not groundless, and
that Wynyard Gerard is not forgotten
by the millers daughter.
How could he be so heartleSs!" she
concludes, finishing the story of her
afternoons drive.
Don't know at all, my dear; but
Wynyard always was rather heartleSs,"
answers the Squire, jingling the money
in his pocket and whistling softly.
Ralph, you don't seem to care at all;
and she looked so sad, poor grill" says
his wife reproachfully.
my dear, assure you am very sor-
ry indeed; unfortunately being sorry
will not help matters. We cannot I'M
marry Wynyard now, you know; and
one doesn't exactly wish for mesdlli-
dnce in the family either" adds the
Squire, who is not less kind-hearted,
but only rather more practical, than
his impulsive wife.
"Of course not; still Wynyard
shouln't have firted with her." stoutly
persist Mrs. Gerard.
Il quite agree with you on that
point" returns Ralph.
Ralph" begins his wife sOlemnly,
after brief pause, what if she doesn't
even know of Vineyards marriage yet,
but is still hoping that he is coming
back againP"
The Squire looks rather grave.
And" continues Mrs. Gerard, ~how
could she know unless Wynyard him
self told her%
He wouldn't tell her." hastily put
in the Squire.
~Then, Ralph, what is to be donet
1t seems cruel, if it is true that Wyn
yard has been flirting with her, to
leave her in ignorance of his mar
rage"
Couldn't you let her know some